


Meeting My Reflection: Electric Frozen Boogaloo

by justonemoreartist



Series: Meeting My Reflection [3]
Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: BDSM, Elsacest, Elsanna - Freeform, Elsannacest, F/F, F/M, Incest, Multi, Nonromantic Pairing, OT3, Polyamory, Sibling Incest, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 04:01:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1454629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justonemoreartist/pseuds/justonemoreartist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The third chapter in our series. Reality ensues and doesn't care about whose feelings it steps on. A queen is only as powerful as her court, and when they levy demands, she must obey. Christmas comes to Arendelle, bringing with it colder weather and unhappy realizations. Contains Elsacest, Elsanna, Elsannacest, and (brief, non-romantic) Kristanna.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meeting My Reflection: Electric Frozen Boogaloo

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back to Arendelle! A land of magical beings, fun characters, and porn-I MEAN EROTICA. Wow, that almost got awkward; dodged that crossbow bolt! Whew. We last left our heroes agreeing that Kristoff is the broeist of bros. This episode, we discover that everyone in Arendelle is kinky. Everyone. Keep reading for snowmen in dominatrix suits and a gagged Gerda. Also stay tuned for such touching moments as "will Olaf ever find true love?", "Kristoff negotiates a pay raise from Elsa by pitching trolls at her until she gives in", and "what happens in Snow Vegas stays in Snow Vegas because it all melts anyways".
> 
> In keeping with our growing tradition, the title is…you guessed it, bullshit, along with the slightly longer but no less important tradition of watching Kim come up with shit on the fly with basically no research and planning. So this is more like a series of vignettes that have the same characters than anything resembling a plot.
> 
> Content Warning: Contains descriptions of sexual acts, including BDSM, between three consenting adults. There is also swearing. You have been warned. Contains Elsanna, Elsacest, OT3's and Kristanna (!?).

“Reindeers are better than horses!” Kristoff yelled, spurring Sven forward. Sven gave a low bleat and his speed increased, hooves flying over the snow.

“Hah! As if! C’mon, hyup!” Anna kicked her legs into the side of her horse, who merely snorted and kept trotting. Well, she _did_ ask the stablemaster for one that was a little less excitable than her previous steed. The only problem was she wasn’t sure that this horse was _aware_ of the concept of excitement. She half expected it to have been carved out of stone and given animation minutes before she called for it. That would certainly explain its mouth.

Kristoff laughed at her and began leading Sven in smaller and smaller circles around her. He leaned down in the saddle as she struggled with the reins, grumbling over her ‘mountain of useless horseflesh’, and scooped up a large clump of snow.

“Okay Prancer,” she told the horse, who flicked one ear back and stopped. “You and I are going to have a talk when we get home about-” She broke off with a yelp as the snowball hit the side of her face, clumps of slushy snow dripping down her neck, below her jacket and into her dress. Kristoff shook with laughter and even Sven let out short little barks. She hurriedly swept at the achingly cold mush, jerking around in her seat in a frantic dance, cursing fluently in French. Prancer’s ear went forward.

Kristoff let out a low whistle. “Wow, I have no idea what you just said, but it sounded hilariously dirty. When did you learn French?”

“Janice taught me. Well…not _French_ itself, like the entire language, but more like-”

He held up a hand. “I think I can finish _that_ sentence.” He shook his head, still grinning. Sven took advantage of the respite to nibble at the few blades of grass still visible against the white carpet of snow.

She flicked the rest of the snow off of her and dropped her hands to the saddle, looking out over the plain. She’d never thought to call winter beautiful, not until graceful hands had left trails of wonder curling behind them, gorgeous earth and ice hybrid sculptures that accentuated each other’s natures, entwining around one other like a quiet embrace. But now she looked over the gently rolling hills and saw a sparkling sea of white that fairly shone in the bright sun, a smooth finish over more bumpy, wild terrain, saw the trees glistening, their previously naked branches now covered in winter’s cold touch, the calls of birds a reminder that the world was sleeping, but not gone. Her breath shimmered around her.

Kristoff was quiet for a time, stroking Sven’s shoulders underneath his harness, the reindeer making small contented noises, his nose rubbing against the snow. He was watching a figure in the distance. “We’re never going to catch up, are we?”

“Probably not.” She dismounted with a small grunt and went over to Sven, dragging off a glove as she did so. She scratched behind his ear and his eyes closed in bliss, head tilting in her direction, ignoring Kristoff’s spluttered “hey, watch it” as his antlers smacked the big man’s side. She draped her arm over his furry shoulders and stared out over the plain.

“I thought she said she wasn’t good with horses. Made her nervous.”

“Not good with normal horses, yes.” She smiled, fingers still moving slowly. “But I don’t think that applies.”

The brilliantly white horse and its rider were speeding away from them at a rate far faster than was earthly possible, aided by the thin tracks of ice that were flung out ahead of the animal’s thundering hooves. She could just barely see the tail being whipped about by the rushing wind, the surprisingly spindly legs carrying the creature farther and farther away, moving so quickly it seemed as though it never touched down at all, and her heart throbbed. What would hurt worse: if her sister were to keep running away until she was just a tiny speck, a mere memory of a person, a shape that became a ghost that disappeared for good?

Or if she learned how to fly?

A ringing cry shattered her thoughts and sent Sven’s head jerking up to call in response, both of them barely managing to avoid his antlers and their sharp tines. Against the backdrop of the mountains, up on a high cliff, the horse was rearing, hooves clawing at the air, and for a moment Anna was sure that it _would_ take off, and she inhaled sharply.

The horse came back down to earth and Anna sighed as it began trotting towards them, its wild rush from before spent, Elsa’s wild, wind-whipped mane and beaming smile growing bigger and bigger as she drew closer to them. Anna leaned against the reindeer and smiled up at her sister with a dreamy expression.

“You came back.”

Elsa snorted, and the ice horse did the same, almost like it was mocking her, and she patted its strong neck. “Of course. I’ll always come back. Because home is…”

“…where the heart is,” Anna finished. She knew her grin was turning into a dopey, gooey mess and didn’t give a fuck.

Kristoff’s stomach broke the silence. “That, and where the hot soup and oats are.”

“Thank you for reminding us, Mr. Bjorgman, of how we’re all still human.” Elsa glanced at Sven, Prancer, and then Anna with a wink. “Well, some of us.”

“Hey…”

“Last one in has to eat Oaken’s lutefisk!” Elsa suddenly shouted, and took off in the direction of the stables, leaving a trail of snowflakes in her wake.

Kristoff gaped after her. “Oh God I hope she meant that literally.” Sven puffed out his chest and stepped carefully out of Anna’s grip before bolting forward.

Prancer huffed and lay down. Anna pouted and kicked snow on him.

“At least _I_ like fish.”

 

* * *

 

 

She was seriously regretting that statement.

Oh, sure, it had been extremely nice of the miners to offer her some of their own food, but somehow the dry biscuits and even drier fish weren’t whetting her appetite any. Maybe you had to have muscular arms as big as her head to have a stomach strong enough to eat that, day in and day out, but she was nowhere near ready to. Instead she increased her popularity amongst the burly men immensely by sharing what little food she’d brought on her personal tour of the outer villages, and was the proud recipient of many a dusty pat on the back or crushing bear-hug. As much as she wanted to say that it was entirely part of her current mission to sow good favor amongst the people, or her own sense of goodwill, there was another reason she’d offered.

Enormous, ludicrously huge, strong men looked _hysterical_ drinking from tiny teacups and nibbling daintily at little cakes.

There was something about the winter that brought out Elsa’s wilder, bolder side, and as a result she had finally caved to Anna’s suggestion of a journey through her lands (accompanied, of course, by a large number of guards, one of whom was suspiciously blonde) in order to meet and greet. In times of old, such an event would be an enormous affair, with trains trailing on for miles beyond the monarch, whole cities springing up and then fading into the earth as the group rode ever onward.

But unlike her predecessors, Elsa strongly preferred the quieter approach. Not only for herself, for even now she had a tendency to reach for her gloves at the first sign of more than two dozen people (Anna had recently swapped out a pair in one of her desk drawers for merely an extremely well done – thanks Gerda! – painting of gloves, and Elsa had yet to notice) but for the people themselves, who watched her and her entourage enter their home with more than just polite interest. Elsa had resisted, but eventually acquiesced to Anna’s idea of riding ahead and meeting the people first, to loosen them up. It had helped that Olaf had hidden himself in several saddlebags; even if neither sister had wanted him to be there initially, for fear of frightening others, he had become the darling of several towns’ worth of children. They enjoyed dressing him up with various capes and hats and buttons, and sometimes when they left a town Olaf had several noses, none of which he wanted to be rid of. Thankfully for the sake of anatomical accuracy, Sven was remarkably fast, for a large ungulate.

Their attempt at presenting themselves, and especially Elsa, as a pair of caring royals, interested in the dealings of their people, capable yet compassionate, had failed spectacularly when Anna had collapsed into whoops of laughter at the sight of Elsa, stunned, holding a baby at arm’s length, vomit still trickling down her neck.

On the other hand, it had the unintended effect of quelling the rumors of the Ice Queen being, well, y’know. It was hard to see someone as an unapproachable witch when they were covered in what looked like chunky stew.

“Chunky _spew_.”

“Stop reminding me.”

Anna laughed at her sister, who was holding her head in her hands and slowly shaking it. Janice was stirring her tea, but Anna could see the smile in her eyes, reflected in the dark liquid.

“And here I thought your job was to be the palace jester.” Anna pursed her lips thoughtfully.

“Well, I _am_ pretty good at that, too-”

“Not so much with the juggling.”

“-but yeah, ungrateful louses for sisters aside, I like meeting new people, and somehow that’s been helping things, so…” She lifted her hands with a shrug.

“It’s good to know you’re able to do something that can aid your sister,” Janice said, and sipped her tea, and Anna frowned at her tone, but before she could ask about it Janice had set the cup down and was eyeing her with a particular expression that had the power to make her knees a little wobbly.

Wobblier. Whatever.

“I admit, as glad as I am to hear your absence was useful,” Janice purred, and Elsa’s hands dropped away from her face, “I had hoped to welcome you back, in the _best_ way.”

Anna gasped. “You got us _chocolate lollipops_?” Janice chuckled deep in her throat.

“No, but you will be using your tongues.”

“Aw yes,” Elsa whispered.

 

* * *

 

 

“Excellent: I’m glad we could come to an agreement. Now, if there are no more items on our agenda…”

A nobleman cleared his throat. “Actually, your Majesty,” he said, eyeing several of his fellows, “there was one other matter we needed to discuss. Two matters, I suppose.”

Elsa’s shoulders drooped imperceptibly. She should’ve known better. The council had a habit of springing things on her at the last minute; they seemed to think that she would simply give in, in the hopes that they could all retire early.

That had actually been an accurate assessment, once. But now she had a tendency to insist upon delaying making a decision. She never outright said that she needed to “sleep on it”, but the implication was there. She didn’t care to lie, after all, even if some of her solutions did come to her at night.

“Yes, what is it?”

“Well, it’s about the policy concerning heirs, your Majesty.”

She tried not to close her eyes: this was a favorite topic that popped up with an increasing sense of urgency. Barely into her twenties, and her advisors already were good at making her feel old.

“I assure you, gentlemen, that I understand your concerns surrounding my…” She trailed off, confused, when the man shook his head.

“No, I’m sorry, I wasn’t clear. You see, and I apologize if I sound pedantic, as it is not my intention, but you understand how your father’s addition to the rules of succession changed things?”

“Of course.” How could she not? In a world surrounded by male rulers passing their titles and lands down to their sons, her father had had lawyers draw up new terms that would allow the oldest of his offspring to count as his heir and given the full rights and responsibilities of such. When she was a child, she’d thought it the grandest thing, that she got to be “king”, even if her mother had chuckled and reminded her that women were “queens”. As an adolescent, she had cursed her parents to their faces for forcing this on her slim shoulders, on top of her own curse; at least if she had been born elsewhere, she would have had only one burden.

As an adult she had recognized it for the act of faith, trust and love that it truly was, and wondered just how much she had missed, trapped inside her cage of fear, of her parents’ quiet love.

He nodded, drawing Elsa back into the present. “Yes, well, you see, as…touching as that was-” Elsa tried not to imagine him with his backside frozen to the cushions of his plush chair “-it seems that we desperately require a change.”

“And that would be because…?” Janice might have sneered; Elsa was very close to doing so.

“Because, given the language of the law, and I quote: ‘any of my eldest offspring’, one could easily make the case that your, well, snowmen are therefore the crown princes.” He gestured at the window. Elsa turned her head.

Outside, Marshmallow was holding Olaf’s torso between two icicle fingers. A large, crude target had been painted on what looked like a pilfered door, and Olaf’s bottom and head were already stuck to it, both far from the center. Kristoff, Sven and Olaf’s head were cheering Marshmallow on as he wound up, while Anna stood off to the side, her arms crossed angrily. Apparently the huge golem was better at darts: Olaf’s nose was dead center.

Elsa looked back at the man, and they shared a look of trembling horror.

“I mean no disrespect to your own rule, my Queen: it is not the matter of the heir’s sex, but rather…species.”

“Yes,” she croaked, and coughed, swallowing before she continued. “I can see where this would be a problem. Perhaps adding in the term ‘human’…?”

“Alternatively, you Majesty, you could simply remove what power of yours it is that animates them.”

She shook her head adamantly. “Absolutely not. Besides, I haven’t any power over them; they’re _alive_ , just as you and I are; you had said that it would be erroneous to consider them my children, but how far from the truth is that? At any rate, I could hardly end their lives. Although I do agree that the idea of Olaf or his…brother being King is, ah, troubling.”

The council readily agreed that, for all their Queen’s constructs were…fascinating, it was probably for the best that none ever sit upon the throne. Especially since neither fit. Plans were quickly drawn to alter the language of the law, and Elsa was just beginning to hope she’d get out of here soon when she remembered.

“And what was the second matter? I understand it was related to the first.”

“Yes, well, myself and several others have, on several occasions, to bring to your attention the letters of interest we, or rather, the Crown, has received, from eligible suitors.” This time Elsa did close her eyes, briefly.

“So many eligible suitors coming out of the fold; tell me, sir, wherever have you been hiding them all these years?” Oh. That had a bit more of a bite to it than she had intended.

“…yes, well, it seems as though your…condition has sparked some interest.”

Due to her uniqueness, perhaps? Unlikely. Rather, she looked over the letters (and so many of them) without the slightest hint of interest, knowing that most of the authors were hardly captivated by her as a person, but rather a means to power. The thought made her ill.

“And what of my sister? Would I be right to assume that her prospects have received similar care?” She wasn’t sure why she had said it: the thought of Anna in someone else’s arms than hers, or someone like her, filled her with dread that made her clutch at her desperately in the night, in the hopes that if she just held on tightly enough, pressed her love hard enough against her sister’s body, no force could tear them apart.

Their silence was enough.

She stood. “I believe we’re finished here,” she said, projecting her voice over the table to ensure none dared to challenge her, even though she could still see the darting eyes that signaled the power of the Queen was not enough.

It would never be enough.

 

* * *

 

 

“No Elsa tonight?”

“I sent her to bed.”

Janice accepted Anna’s hand as she stepped through the mirror. “I do hope you tucked her in; wouldn’t want our girl getting cold.”

“What do you think Beans is for?” Beans was Anna’s toy rabbit. From back when she was six.

“…should I be concerned?”

“Naw, I was kidding. I did need us to be alone, though; I’ve been waiting to get my hands on you.”

Janice’s eyebrows rose, and Anna realized just how much of a come-on that could be misconstrued as. Ever since the night up on the mountain, she and Janice had been more hesitant with one another, at least from a tactile perspective. It had seemed backward, almost, but when alone, they had been having less sex but more intimate moments, and Anna had discovered that Janice wielded her sexuality just as surely as she did her power; as a tool to be used, a force to be reckoned, a power to be obeyed. Not that Janice had ever forced anything upon either of them: if she made them shiver it was more due to her bluntness and disregard for social norms, not morals. Janice did not have either the time or the patience to dance around a subject that she cared about, and she expected the same of others.

With this in mind, Anna straightened and dropped Janice’s hand. The other woman stood there, examining her face expectantly.

“Actually, that’s not what I, well, there’s a reason why I wanted to talk to you, alone, and not with Elsa here. See, I wanted some…legal advice.”

This time Janice’s eyebrows lowered. “Please tell me you haven’t been starting bar fights.”

“Bar fights-? Oh!” Anna threw her arms up in the air. “Oh come on, I punched out _one_ guy who totally deserved it! It was a onetime thing!”

Janice put a hand on one of her wildly gesturing arms, creases at the corners of her eyes. “I know; I really wish I could’ve been there to see it. Please, continue.” Anna made a show of still being insulted, but Janice clearly saw right through her, so she gave up.

“Well, see, Elsa’s council has kinda been coming down hard on her recently, because come next July she’ll be 23, and I’m almost 20, so they keep trying to get her to agree to entertain suitors for…either of us, I guess. And since we both know that Elsa’s not interested in men, I figured that I could do it. I could marry, and my children would be the heirs the council wants. Is…is that legal? Because I don’t know if that would work without her abdicating to me and, well…” She chuckled. “I think we both know how that would turn out." She looked up from her twisting hands at Janice.

Janice was regarding her with a look that was at once tender and pitying. “I don’t think any of us would know how your reign would be, Anna, but…” She lifted her hand, and Anna stopped breathing when she curled it around her jaw, caressing her cheek lightly with a thumb.

“I would not discount yourself just yet. Elsa certainly never will.” She turned away and Anna saw a blue light over her shoulder, and she peered around the woman’s side, hoping to catch Janice’s magic in action, when the other woman hesitated, and the light disappeared. Janice leaned to the side and pulled Elsa’s desk chair out. She gestured at it, and Anna hurriedly sat, knocking over a pen in her haste, while Janice took her own place on the side of Elsa’s desk. She picked up the overturned pen and touched the ink stain with one finger, freezing it before it could go any further, and returned the pen to the head of the desk. She then folded her hands over her lap and gave Anna her undivided attention, something that made warmth spread through Anna’s chest.

“This isn’t something that you’ve just thought of, if you’re coming to me, is it?”

“No, I actually was planning on it being an early Christmas present; like, I’d get married and then Elsa wouldn’t have to and we’d have Christmas together.”

“Did you have someone in mind?”

“Yeah: Kristoff.” At this Janice looked startled, even…upset? Hesitantly, Anna continued. “I haven’t asked him about it yet, though. But I guess another issue is that he doesn’t have a title; can he even marry me?”

Janice looked down at her hands, and Anna was startled to find them glowing. She closed them with a sense of finality.

“So. Do you have feelings for him?” Her voice was cold. Anna’s mouth dropped open.

“Well, I had thought…” Anna stopped when she saw the tension written into Janice’s body. Anna studied the other woman carefully, and it struck her that for all Elsa and Janice had spent more time with one another, had told one another their secrets, it was Anna who truly got to see what lay beneath Janice’s skin. Perhaps not because it was what she wanted, but because Anna had spent years training her eyes to see even a glimmer of hope and happiness on her sister’s face, so that she could see now that Janice was afraid. She was afraid of losing this, this bright, wonderful thing that they all shared, afraid of losing Anna, afraid of what it meant that to truly gain one sister she had to part with the other.

“Oh, but it’s not like that at all; I wouldn’t be leaving you, or Elsa, or _us_.” Janice gave her a hard look.

“Do you mean to deceive him, then? Tell him that you’ve fallen for him, instead? I should think it would be bad enough that your original interest would be due to your feelings for your sister, but if you intend to continue with them…I cannot see her agreeing if she were to find out.”

“Would _you_?” Anna asked. Janice actually shifted uncomfortably, turning away.

“That is not my decision.”

“But assuming it was,” Anna said, pressing on, “what would you say?”

Janice was silent for a long time. The only sound was the crackling of the fire, and the whisper of a breeze against the windowpanes. The clock struck midnight.

“I would say…that it is your choice alone. It might have been different, if I knew your actions were capricious and foolhardy, for your sake alone, or if I felt you too young to wed, but now…” Janice looked at her. She exhaled, and made to speak.

There was a thump. Anna looked around the back of the chair to see Elsa picking up a pair of books she’d dropped, her bare feet sticking out of her night robe. She sighed. She really should’ve given her Beans: the animal was quite good at managing disturbed sleep. Lord knows he’d had practice.

Elsa held the books against her chest. “I…I can’t sleep at this time, anymore,” she admitted. “So I came here, and…Anna, what are you saying? Marriage? I thought…that we…”

Anna got up with a grunt. “Okay. _Okay_. Fine. This is your Christmas present you’re ruining, but fine. I had planned to talk to Kristoff about marrying me, while he and I both know that I’m only doing so in order to have a husband and children who can serve as _your_ heirs so you don’t have to. I wouldn’t be leaving either of you, and I wouldn’t be lying to him, either.”

Elsa stared at her. “Are you seriously suggesting that I would agree to your keeping him as…as a _studhorse_? How could you-and what on earth would he say to something like that?”

“I don’t know!” Anna shouted, and both women shushed her instantly, Elsa’s eyes darting towards the closed doors. “I don’t know!” Anna hissed. “I haven’t asked him yet! I just wanted to see if it were even possible! Because I know that you,” she said, pointing a finger at Elsa, “will refuse marriage to the day you die, both because you don’t like men and because you’re terrified of passing on your magic, and because I know that you’re going to keep coming back to me all cranky and cross because you keep getting pressured on this marriage business, which you _know_ won’t stop until one of us is married, in fact it’ll get worse, and I don’t care if you agree or not, I’m going to ask him because if one of us is going to be married then it might as well be me.” She stopped, breathing hard, and crossed her arms.

“Also because I’d probably kill the first person who tried to touch you. Who isn’t Janice or me,” she admitted.

“So please don’t be angry with me because-”

“I’m angry with myself.” Elsa’s shoulders were slumped, but her voice was clear. She sighed, and Anna could see the strain in her eyes as she willed herself to continue. “And I started to take it out on you because it was easier for me to lash out instead of tell you the real issue.”

“To be fair,” Janice said, “you do raise an important point about Kristoff’s needs, although those are for him to decide himself.”

“So let’s _let him decide_ by having me ask him, okay?” Anna looked between the two of them, but neither of them had their eyes on her. Janice and Elsa held their gaze, like a pair of statues carved out of adjacent cathedrals, and for a brief moment Anna imagined a golden thread between the two, a shimmering connection running from one queen to the other. Then the moment was gone and it was the three of them again, and Elsa was backing away. Anna was just beginning to wish they had let her yell when Elsa opened the door and motioned expectantly to Anna.

Janice made no protest when they went, leaving her alone.

 

* * *

 

 

Anna waited, the question burning on her lips, until Elsa had shut the door behind her and they were alone.

“So why were you angry with yourself?”

“I had wanted to ask you first.” Elsa gave her a small, sad smile. “But I was too late.”

“Oh no,” Anna said, “No Elsa, you’re never too late.” She cupped Elsa’s cheeks in her hands and imagined she held Elsa’s heart instead. She rose up on her toes to press her lips to Elsa’s forehead. “I would, and will, always wait for you.”

Elsa turned her head and kissed her palm, causing Anna’s cheeks to turn pink and her heart to flutter. “I know. Why do you think I could never stop loving you?”

Her eyes were dark pools filled with quiet, tender desire, with violent regret, with tired love, as she drew her towards the bed.

When Elsa removed Anna’s clothes with gentle hands, kisses falling on the skin she so tenderly revealed, as though unwrapping a most precious gift, she asked: “Will you?”

When Elsa covered Anna’s body with her own, her touch a slow worship, not penetrating, but entering, merging, joining, becoming one, she murmured: “Please, be mine.”

When Elsa smoothed Anna’s messy hair, dragging her fingers through sweat-dampened strands as their heartbeats slowed, their mingled breath more reflection than need, holding her in their shared darkness, she begged: “Forever?”

And to each Anna could only whisper: “Yes, yes, _yes_.”

 

* * *

 

 

“…so, with all that said…what do you think?” A long silence fell over them, and Anna tried not to squirm, meeting his dumbstruck gaze with her own nervous but hopeful one. She’d never noticed how _loud_ birdcalls were.

He gripped her shoulders. “Anna.” He tightened his grip. “Anna.”

“That’s my name.”

“ _Anna_.”

“…don’t wear it out.”

“Let me get this straight,” he said, looking directly into her eyes, stooping a little to do so, “you are telling me that I can marry into wealth, into _royalty_ , have all the freedom I want, time to myself whenever I want, and all I need to do is have occasional meaningless sex with an incredibly attractive woman who is a nice person to be around.”

“Well, not _meaningless_ : we’re still friends, Kristoff. We just wouldn’t be lovers-I mean, we would be, but, you know…”

“I know, I know.” He was nodding so hard his hair kept flipping into his eyes. “I know. I _know_. I just, I’m trying to-WHAT’S THE CATCH?” He shook her shoulders frantically. She stared back at him before spluttering out a reply. “There is no catch.”

“There’s always a catch!”

“There is _no_ catch!”

“You keep throwing shit at me: throw me the catch!”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

He panted, staring at her. It was a little intense. “There’s…there’s no catch?” His voice had gone very high and quiet. “Oh God please tell me there’s no catch.”

“None.”

“Absolutely none?”

“Would I lie to you, Kristoff?”

“No, you, you wouldn’t.” He released her, his hands hovering at her sides. “…wow.”

“So…” Anna rubbed her shoulder, and then hesitantly extended her hand. “What do you say?”

He blinked at the hand and looked back up at her: her heart almost broke at the look of childlike wonder in his eyes. There was something weird about that, considering he was basically agreeing to become a studhorse.

“This…” Her eyes widened when his lips began to tremble. He choked. “This…this is the best day of my life.” He grabbed her hand and pumped it vigorously before his head dropped and he started making little whimpering sounds to accompany the litany of kisses he laid upon her fingers. Anna’s eyes bulged and she tried to tug her hand out of his grip, but he held fast, still shaking. Oh Lord this was awkward, and she knew awkward.

“Uhhhhhh, I’ve uh, I think I’m just gonna go,” she said, and yanked her hand out of his grip when he began muttering things like “all my prayers have been answered” and “my life is complete” and “I can’t wait to tell Sven”.

“So…you’re happy? You don’t have any regrets?”

He nodded, tears in his eyes. She let out a short exhale, relieved.

“Oh good, that’s great then,” she said, and hastily walked away, drawing towards the stable door. She stopped on the threshold, considering something, and then turned back to him with a wicked grin. “Because here I was thinking you’d hate having to go through a royal proposal and wedding.”

He squawked out an “ _Anna!_ ” before she shut the door on him, already laughing hysterically.

 

* * *

 

 

“He said yes!” Anna announced, by way of greeting, startling Elsa and Janice out of a conversation about the medicinal properties of tea.

“Wait, really?” Elsa couldn’t be too displeased; she made to put the medical books she’d been planning to consult down, but Anna ran up to her and grabbed her hand, shaking it so hard Elsa felt her bones rattle.

“Of _course_ , why wouldn’t he? This is perfect, Elsa, perfect!”

“Well, I should think that-”

Anna mashed a finger over Elsa’s lips, almost getting bitten for her trouble. “No. _No_.” She drew her hand back and waggled it at her sister, like one tsking a bad dog. “You do not get to think tonight: you get to be _happy_.”

“And if you aren’t, Anna will be for you,” Janice drawled, eyeing the way Anna was fairly thrumming with excitement, clearly still just as pumped as she had been when she’d burst in to break the news. Anna nodded happily in assent.

“You know what this means, right?” Anna looked about ready to vibrate out of her skin.

Elsa smiled, already lost in thought. She could see Anna surrounded by a dozen children of varying states of blondeness, all of them excitedly yelling and laughing and jostling one another happily. “Yes, it means you’ll get to be-”

“-the ones to _pop_ that cherry of yours like it’s a balloon and _we_ are the needle of _love_!” Anna said, bringing her fists up to her sides and thrusting her pelvis forward.

Elsa’s books and jaw hit the floor at the same time. Janice’s eyes bulged and she hurriedly set her teacup aside, hacking and coughing, gripping the armrests tightly. Both of them started spluttering at the same time, Elsa saying “ _Anna!_ How-how could, you, that’s, that’s not even, I-” while Janice choked “Holy shit that was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“So I hope you’re ready for some good old-fashioned frick-fracking, because things are definitely going bonk in the night _tonight_!” Anna sashayed up to the doorway and spun, snapping her fingers and pointing at both of them with a wink. “Better get ready: I’ll be back in ten. See you then, lo _vers_ ,” she said, and stepped outside.

Elsa stared at the empty doorway in a mix of stunned astonishment and pounding excitement.

Janice had recovered quickly. “Well,” she said, and patted her lips dry with her handkerchief, “and they say romance is dead.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Look what I have!” Anna said, triumphantly, the door banging open, presenting the pair sitting cross legged across from each other, conversing upon the bed, with a tray bearing two full wineglasses and a mug of cocoa. “Libations in preparation of fornication!”

“…oh God,” Janice groaned. She dropped her head into her hands. “We’re all terrible: that’s how we should’ve known.” Anna decided not to press it: she was _not_ being distracted tonight. She stopped and brought a hand up to her ear.

“What? What’s that? Do I hear…music?” Anna gasped and clapped a hand to her cheek dramatically: Elsa pulled a pillow into her chest and grinned into it.

“The sweet cah _ress_ of twilight!” Anna sang, kicking the door closed behind her. The frame shuddered.

“There’s _magic_ everywhere…” she continued, balancing her tray on one hand while the other gestured flippantly. Elsa’s face felt like it was cracking in two.

“Aaaaaand with all this romaaaaannntiiiiic atmosphere-oh!” She clutched at the tray, which had dipped alarmingly, wine splashing into the cocoa and the cocoa onto the floor. She froze in her precarious position, looking guiltily at the pair from out of the corner of her eye.

“…disaster’s in the air…” Janice crooned. Anna glared at her and slammed the tray down on the bedside table.

“That’s not how it goes!”

“If the rhyme fits…”

Elsa laughed. “You can’t just shove stuff in willy-nilly and have it fit.”

Janice winked at her. “That’s what foreplay is for.” She smirked at Elsa’s quickly reddening cheeks. “Speaking of,” she added, and leaned forward and pulled the pillow out of Elsa’s limp hands, tossing it away. Elsa shivered with anticipation as her lips grew closer. So many times, she’d been close enough to kiss, but Janice had never offered, and Elsa had never thought to just take, even if she had imagined it, more than once. But now, was she offering…? Her heart pounded against her chest, a reflection of her own insistent need, and she found herself tilting her head to match Janice, their noses brushing. Just before their lips touched, Janice paused.

Elsa didn’t.

Her gasp slid into Janice’s mouth when she opened it, followed a bare moment later by Elsa’s tongue, searching, exploring, diving into the other woman as Elsa’s hands flew to her neck, stroking the fair skin, her touch alternately hesitant and voracious. It felt like part of her was bleeding into Janice, crashing against her, and Janice calmly rode the wave, moving her lips gently against Elsa’s, doing absolutely nothing to quell her thirst. She dimly heard Anna making a noise that sounded like she’d been punched in the gut before she felt a solid, warm weight against her back.

Her eyes opened at the crackling sound of ice, and for a moment felt a flicker of fear before she realized that it was Janice’s, not hers. It scaled the walls, skating over the ceiling, moving so quickly Elsa could hardly follow the path with her eyes before it merged into one solid layer, surrounding them with the cold.

“In case you felt the need to be vocal,” Janice breathed against her lips, and then withdrew.

Anna shivered, her breath visible when she panted. “Well,” she grumbled, “that’s just great for you two, but what about me?” Elsa reached over her shoulder and palmed the nape of her neck, grinning up at her.

“Watch this.”

Around the bed, along the rug, climbing up the sides, scaling the four posts, snaking across the headboard, and meeting in the center of the canopy arose fire, but not any like Anna had ever seen. It flickered and jumped far more slowly than the normal element, and the flames went from a dark, night-sky blue at the base to brilliantly white at the tips, throwing off an eerie glow that threw dark shadows on the far walls.

“Frozen fire,” she whispered, and impulsively brought a hand over to the bedpost, scooping some of the stuff up. It danced sluggishly around in her palm, warm enough for her palm to tingle, but cool enough so that she wasn’t burnt. She looked back at Elsa, who was watching her with a quiet smile.

“Do you like it?”

By all rights, the ice covering the walls should’ve cooled the room down considerably. Ice was cold, water was wet, her sister loved her: all of these were universal truths. And yet, on the bed, the temperature was genial, even balmy, the heat of the flames pulsing evidence of how far Elsa’s power extended. It felt almost like she was already in her sister’s arms, locked in a gentle embrace.

“I love it. And I can touch it, too. This is…this is amazing, Elsa.” She blinked quickly, and returned the little flame to its home, where it happily snuggled against the bedpost. She turned her head and saw Janice eyeing Elsa quietly, a devoted smile on her lips.

“You’ve come a long ways.”

Elsa blushed. “Thanks to your guidance.”

“ _Our_ guidance,” Janice corrected, and, taking Anna’s hand, brought it to Elsa’s wrist. Anna squeezed gently. “But then you’ve risen to the challenge, and that’s quite remarkable.”

“Thank you,” Elsa whispered, to the air between them. She wasn’t quite ready to meet their eyes; the simultaneous affection was too intense.

Anna coughed and fidgeted. “So uh, are we doing this thing or what?” Her eyes widened. “Uh, I mean, unless you don’t want to, because that’d totally be ok-”

“No! I mean, yes, I-what I mean is that I would very much like to have sex. And specifically, uh, lose my…”

Janice plucked an ice cherry from the air and dangled it above Elsa’s nose. She sniffed in disdain.

“You two are so crude.”

 

* * *

 

Elsa groaned as she again slid down the length of the ice.

It had taken some time getting used to. Romance novels (which Elsa most assuredly did _not_ read) would describe the blushing virgin (accurate) who had never had felt another’s touch within her (true) and had never felt any sort of desire, need, or mounting pleasure until just this moment (hilariously false). And their heroines always seemed to manage taking in a huge, meaty, throbbing (ugh) phallus of some sort within moments of starting the encounter, despite being tighter than a clenched fist.

Elsa did not have the luxury of being a fictional character, and thus had to take several steps to ensure that the cock splitting her in two with pleasure didn’t actually do that. Or, rather, she had two very attractive, very helpful, and soon very naked assistants who were willing to aid her in that regard. Janice, being an enormous tease, had taken to kissing and touching her so leisurely Elsa would have screamed with frustration if she hadn’t been so distracted by Anna’s questing fingers, surprisingly nimble inside of her, movement made easy by how wet she was becoming.

Anna gave a slow, trembling thrust above, her lip quivering between her teeth and fingers tight around Elsa’s thighs. She turned her head to the side and whined when their lips met, forcing the shaft deeper inside her own core. Janice’s fingers stroked Elsa’s clitoris almost lazily, a sharp contrast to Elsa’s increasingly frantic movements.

It hadn’t been too hard, crafting more warm ice, but she couldn’t use her usual trick of sending the ice beneath the skin without hurting Anna. For all it was warm, it would still be damaging, and though Anna had remained steadfastly adamant about it, Elsa couldn’t see how her sister could safely be the one to penetrate her. That is, until Janice, shaking her head at their folly, had offered a unique solution.

“Fuck….yes…” she whispered, rolling her hips, her back arching of its own accord. Janice pressed herself more tightly against her, the both of them straddling Anna’s legs, so that she could feel the entirety of Janice’s torso against her back. If she concentrated, she could feel the little touches that signaled Janice’s stomach muscles tensing.

Anna looked like a pilgrim to some holy shrine, mouth agape and expression enraptured, her auburn hair spread out in a glorious halo. There was probably something blasphemous about that thought, but Elsa was too busy praying this moment would never end to worry about the state of her soul. She was too concerned about her own wicked flesh and how good it felt sliding slickly against another sinner’s body to consider anything other than her current earthly paradise.

And of course, the devil on her shoulder. Janice’s teeth sank into the nape of her neck, and she brought a hand back to curl in her messy hair, made messier by the sweat trickling down her scalp, silently encouraging her to continue.

Throughout their intercourse, it had felt as though Janice was everywhere, though she had never strayed from her supporting position: rather, it was her hands, lips, tongue and teeth that roamed, covering Elsa’s body in caresses, scratches, and bites that throbbed in the heated air. Each touch was a superheated push that sent her closer and closer to her goal.

“Oh God, A-aan—I— _please_ , I-I, I’m going to-o, I need, I-I, I _aaaaahhh!_ ”

Her spine curved into beautiful lordosis, her fingernails drawing pinpricks of blood from Janice’s thighs as her head arched back, her finishing cry ringing against the icy walls, her core reflexively clenching and _finally_ finding something to clench around during her climax. That new sensation had her nearly undone again, the pleasure too great for just once.

She was just slowly returning to herself, the white-hot explosion of ecstasy transitioning into exhausted, shaking limbs, when Anna sobbed and ground upward, shuddering through her own peak, and she gasped above her, unable to look away from the sight of her sister’s face as she came.

She swayed forward and just barely caught herself, hands on either side of Anna’s head, their faces less than a foot away, and it felt like she was falling into a sea of green, unable and unwilling to stop. Anna’s grasping hands curled tightly around her wrists as they shuddered through the aftershocks.

She felt Janice press her teeth into her shoulder, the only warning, before she moved her thumb above Anna’s clitoris and pressed down, hard.

Anna’s eyes went wide, and she slammed her hips upward instantly. Elsa cried out, pain mixing with the pleasure so well that she didn’t know whether to beg Anna to stop or continue. She got her answer when Anna retreated and thrust again, and Elsa lost what little of her breath that remained at the wave of pleasure that crashed over her, the pain serving only to keep her in the moment. She dropped her head to her chest, whining as she was filled again and again, every penetration sending pleasure ripping through her body.

Oh _fuck_ maybe those books were on to something. She was so glad she’d read them.

“Wha- _oh-_ ” Her gasping was cut short suddenly as harsh fingers sank into her free hair and yanked her head back by the roots, forcing her to stare into Anna’s eyes. Their gazes locked and they could do nothing but beg wordlessly to one another, panting, gasping, the air between them violently surging out of one open mouth and into the other like some erotic ritual.

Elsa felt a hand slip down behind her buttocks, and for a wild moment imagined Janice’s fingers entering her along with Anna, and the terrifying, frightening, arousing thought almost sent her over the edge. Instead she only felt the back of a wrist and forearm, muscles flexing rhythmically, and Janice panted into her ear.

Her jaw dropped as she realized what she was doing.

“Anh- _ah!_ ”

“El-elsa!” Anna cried, still moving desperately, no rhyme or reason to her pace, just aching need. There were tears forming in the corners of her eyes, and Elsa watched, fascinated, her body afire, as they grew, glittering droplets, and then spilled over.

Anna did the same when she came, her come coating the shaft they shared, some of it forced inside her sister. Elsa heard someone scream as she was overcome. It might have been her.

Her arms gave way and she collapsed to Anna’s chest, Janice’s arm trapped between them, still stroking lightly, but the intent now was to soothe, not arouse. Funny how her hands were capable of both.

It took them some time to coax her to release her hold, both physically and psychically, on the ice, but eventually they set her between them, her damp skin sinking into the sheets like rain on barren fields crying out for water.

“So,” Anna drawled, entirely too smug for someone whose eyes were still red, and drew her hand up underneath her chin, grinning lewdly at her sister, “how was that for your ‘first time’?”

“Not…not…too shabby,” Elsa managed. Her body was going to ache in about a million different places tomorrow. She was really looked forward to it.

“How many orgasms had you had before you lost your virginity?”

Elsa shrugged. Her shoulders hurt. It was great. “Lost count.” The three of them lay together, relaxing in the silence. Elsa watched the ‘firelight’ play over Anna’s curves like a reminder of minutes ago.

Suddenly, a smile snaked its way across her face, and she began to chuckle. Anna peered at her in confusion, and even Janice tilted her head.

“Although,” Elsa said, walking her fingers up Anna’s arm, enjoying the way it made her sister shiver, “I do know that I’ve had far more at Janice’s hands than yours.” Anna’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“That’ll change tonight.”

Janice jerked her head up, looking incensed. “I should think not.”

The two of them glared at each other over Elsa’s body, like two hawks over a rabbit. Janice nodded slowly, hard determination in her eyes, and Anna repeated the gesture as the challenge was made. They both turned their gaze to the woman between them.

Elsa wriggled excitedly. “I love me.”

 

* * *

 

“Oh Gerda, I can take those! I’m headed that way anyways.”

Gerda tutted and shook her head, but released her grip on the papers when Anna tugged. Her lips twitched up into an affectionate smile.

“Excellent, thanks. I’ll just drop these off…” Gerda cleared her throat, and Anna looked at her expectantly.

“Will her Majesty be out of bed soon?” Anna tried to appear innocent: she only succeeded in looking like a startled owl.

“Oh, well, how should I know?”

“I should think because not only were you the last person to leave your shared bed, but you are most certainly the cause for her late slumber. I do hope you didn’t run her completely ragged.”

Anna’s heart pounded. Her mouth felt incredibly dry, possibly because it was hanging open.

Gerda fixed her with a pointed look. “Who is it that does your laundry, including bed linens, your Highness?”

Anna made a noise that was somewhere between distressed puppy and dying donkey. The papers fluttered silently to the floor.

“Quite. And who is it that does not _air_ your dirty laundry…?”

Anna stared at her. Gerda, wonderful, faithful, ever-loyal Gerda, returned her stare with a level, if overly patient, one of her own.

Anna blinked back tears. “Oh God you deserve a raise.”

“Of course I do,” the serving woman responded, miffed. “I _am_ doing twice my usual workload. Or, rather,” and here she raised a single eyebrow at the princess, “three times.” Before Anna’s brain had time to catch up with that statement, Gerda was walking away, calling over her shoulder, “I would really like to meet her sometime; if she can handle both of you, she’s quite the woman.” Anna looked down at the papers littering her feet, still trying to process what had just happened. Gerda’s words finally made it through.

She whistled softly. “Oh man, you have no idea.”

 

* * *

 

 

Looking back, the whole affair was glorious, if a bit taxing.

Even though she enjoyed the ceremony more, the proposal had been loads of fun, too. Kristoff had dropped to one knee, tearing a stitch in the thigh of his too-tight ‘noble drudgery’, as he called it, the crowd in the courtyard had gasped, and before he could finish stuttering past the “will you” part, Anna had plopped herself down on his knee, thrown her arms around his broad shoulders and demanded he marry her, to both the pleasure and consternation of those around her. Elsa had watched from one of the windows of her study, a carefully constructed breeze bringing the words up to her ears, chuckling into her mug of cocoa as she leaned against the mirror frame.

What followed was a whirlwind of activity. Elsa was amazed at how calmly Anna rode the storm, talking to one person on her left about bouquets and another on her right about chair arrangements while drawing a picture of what she wanted in the way of shoes at the same time. What made Elsa’s head spin seemed to only invigorate Anna, who threaded her way through the series of questions and dilemmas and decisions with the ease of a dancer.

Kristoff, meanwhile, had almost entirely disappeared the day after he learned that all he needed to do was stand in pretty clothes and not make too much noise. Given Sven’s location, Elsa strongly suspected that he was spending the weeks lodged deep inside a haystack.

Every night, when she and Anna dragged themselves into Elsa’s room, Janice had guided them over to the bed with soft but insistent touches, and then, when they were good and ready, started talking about the most boring subjects either girl had ever heard of. Elsa had woken up to see Janice’s heels just leaving their world, and when she had realized what the other woman had been doing, she had smiled and cuddled closer to the still snoring Anna.

One night she pretended to fall asleep while Janice spoke softly about the correct ways to mix paints so they wouldn’t dry too quickly on different types of canvas (Anna had been out cold since Janice had started talking about chemistry) and she watched Janice through her eyelashes.

Janice stroked Anna’s hair which, to the girl’s future sorrow, was undone, and likely to be a bird’s nest in the morning. But for now it let Janice comb through the strands with something akin to tenderness, and Elsa could not recall a time when she had seen the queen be so open. Her heart thudded when Janice leaned down and brushed Anna’s cheek with a kiss.

“You could stay, y’know,” she whispered into the pillow. Janice’s eyes flicked to hers, and she sat up slightly.

“I would then have to leave.” Elsa reached over and grasped her hand.

“But for now you’re here, all right?” She squeezed Janice’s hand, and then slowly, tentatively, sent thin tendrils of frost up her wrist. Janice’s lip quirked, but there was a shadow over her eyes. She looked so very tired.

“Perhaps for one night.”

There were many more nights after that.

For once, Elsa was sad to see the big date draw nearer; as enjoyable as their sexual relationship was, there was something to be said for the way Janice’s breath stirred the fine hairs covering her delicate eyebrows, her gentle inhales and exhales accompanied by soft murmurings in her sleep. At the start, Janice slept like it was another expectation placed upon her, a slot in her schedule, but when Anna curled around her side, her proud face gave way to something that “looks like you, Elsa.” The addition of another body to their bed should have made things cramped and confused: instead, she simply felt into place between them, a missing piece that had finally returned home. Some nights neither of the sisters could sleep, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t dream.

And then came the ceremony.

Anna readjusted her dress for about the millionth time, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet while Elsa willed herself to remain calm for the both of them. Their hectic weeks were almost done: she just had to get through it. She glanced down at her gloves. The fabric should have, after years of practice, felt familiar against her skin, but her palms just felt itchy.

“Don’t worry: you look beautiful.” She laughed and shook her head, turning to see Anna smiling at her.

“So do you.” A massive understatement: Anna was a shining jewel on her arm, hers to give away in the absence of their father. Precious stones glittered in her fine hair, a small snowflake pendant whose ice Elsa could not melt twinkled at her neck. The dress was their mother’s. The fine veil, whisper thin and yet surprisingly warm, was all Elsa’s.

She blinked and looked at the closed doors, listening to the organist play. “You know, I think we’ve done this before.” Her smile faded.

Anna elbowed her. “Yup! And everything went to hell in a handbasket, and then got better, and then got loads better, and so here we are again, together.” She paused. “Well, together after I get married, I mean.”

The music reached a pause, and began a time-old refrain. Elsa inhaled deeply.

Anna held out her arm. “Ready?”

Elsa took it. “As I’ll ever be.”

The doors opened, and they walked, arm in arm, down the aisle.

Elsa wasn’t sure what the best part was, at first. There was Kristoff, trying to be discrete when lifting his leg, only when the organist was playing, the bishop’s face as he realized what the groom was doing, Olaf bursting into tears when he was hastily informed that flowergirls were supposed to throw the flowers _away_ (she blamed Janice’s influence for laughing), the pews filled to bursting on the bride’s side and their inordinate amount of children, the sea of grey ears the only thing visible on the groom’s side, the sound of a hoof scratching impatiently at the closed doors throughout the entirety of the ceremony, Anna saying “Look at how scared they all are, that’s so sweet!” when the bishop asked if anyone wished to dispute the marriage, waiting for her and Kristoff to kiss before she released the ice around everyone’s legs, the collective sigh a perfect backdrop. Then Anna had squealed and thrown her arms around Kristoff, looking over his shoulder to give her sister an ecstatic, if conspiratorial smile, and Elsa knew who was the best part.

And thus they were wed.

 

* * *

 

 

Janice was silent as she held her.

Several rooms away, the newlyweds had retired for their honeymoon, the Princess of Arendelle proclaiming that she had no need for faraway places when what she truly wanted was all the comforts at home. The new Prince of Arendelle had readily agreed, and people had hid smiles behind their hands, laughing at the eagerness of excitable princesses and their peasant husbands.

She held Janice tighter, as if by pulling she could bring her sister into being, away from stronger arms, the ones that could hold her just as easily in daylight as they could in the night, and buried her face in Janice’s royal robes, the soft material almost warm, so different from her usual icy garments.

Janice shivered.

Elsa looked up, confused, and for the first time, saw it. Small, colorless strings of light had emerged from the frame of the mirror and were now wrapped around Janice. Her eyes widened. No, not around; they were under her skin, sunk deep into her flesh, like a series of needle-thin wounds. She glanced at the clock. 2:06.

Janice let out a hiss, her face twisted in pain, and she staggered back, back to the mirror, back towards her own world, turning and grabbing onto the edge, her elbows locked. She hung her head. Elsa could see the strain in her shoulders, could imagine her skin cracking and giving way.

“I wish-” She stopped. She knew the words would cause Janice even more agony.

Janice’s eyes were shimmering. “Me too.” She held the edge of the mirror in a trembling grip, like one about to fall into a deep, swirling abyss, desperate to hang onto safety, one error the only thing between security and loss.

“God.” She laughed, but the sound of it made Elsa flinch. “I could see myself falling in love with you.”

Then she let go, and was gone, and the window became an ordinary mirror again, and Elsa could do nothing but look at her own reflection, so small and so alone.

 

* * *

 

Elsa was preparing for bed when she heard a noise at the door. She turned, and saw Anna shutting the door behind her. She bit her lip, and slowly pulled the covers back.

Anna grinned, and ran to join her.

 

* * *

 

Anna had whined at Elsa all day and night about how it must be illegal to be sick on Christmas, and Janice had been apologetic, even as the two of them had hastily assured her that it wasn’t her fault and would she like another blanket? They both had insisted she take at least a few days off from their nightly visits to just rest, and Janice had reluctantly agreed, literally buried beneath their combined concern. The Ice Queen probably wasn’t suffering from ill effects of the cold, regardless of her shivering, but she did look rather comfortable wrapped up in blankets, laughing quietly with the pair of sisters as they recounted good childhood memories. A tradition in their family, to tell tales of the past on Christmas and to make wishes on the last night of the year, Anna had been too young to really participate in the former, before the accident, and had made the same wish every year afterward. It was strange that now she didn’t need to, that she had another desire in mind, and wondered if that made her greedy. But surely she wasn’t that greedy if she enjoyed sharing so much.

“Wait, you can do that?” Olaf looked down at the gift she was holding, the one whose swooping letters indicated it was to “Olaf” from “Your big sister Anna!” She had dotted her ‘i’ with a heart. “C’mon, come open it!”

“But it’s Christmas Eve.” Olaf frowned at her, crossing his stick arms together, his reluctance to open presents early quite obvious, even if it was just the one. Yet he still leaned forwardly excitedly. “But if you’re sure…”

“Yup! I always opened at least one of my presents early. Longtime Arendellan tradition.”

“Elsa told me that you said things were longtime Arendellan traditions whenever you wanted to pull the wool over some fools’ eyes and get away with whatever you wanted.”

“…with all due respect, Elsa knows nothing. This is _actually_ a tradition of, well, mine, but that makes it Arendellan. So there.”

“Okay,” he said, nodding, and pulled the box closer. “Oooh!” The box jingled when it moved. “I know what it is!”

Anna picked up the box and turned it over in her hands. “Really? I dunno: won’t you have to open it first?”

“Nope! I can hear the bells. It must be bells!”

“Are you suuuuuuure?” she asked, shaking the container gently. It jingled. “Maybe it’s a book, or flowers, or even a puppy!”

Olaf looked at her. “Maybe it’s bells.”

She opened and closed her mouth, and then wordlessly handed him his present. He tore open the wrapping paper with great gusto before giddily opening the box.

“Yay, bells!” He lifted the small belt of sleighbells and immediately fastened them to his stomach. “Look at how pretty they are! I’m never taking them off!”

 

* * *

 JingleJinglejinglejinglejinglejinglejingleJinglejinglejinglejinglejingle.

“I am seriously reconsidering my previous position on the immorality of murdering my constructs,” Elsa muttered. She’d pulled the covers so tightly up around her shoulders and legs against her chest that she looked like an extremely tousled bumblebee. She was glaring at the backs of her eyelids like they could explain to her just why this was happening.

 JingleJinglejinglejinglejinglejinglejingleJinglejinglejinglejinglejingle.

“That’s….that’s not really fair. He’s…he’s just….just really excited,” Anna said between exhausted breaths, even as her head pounded. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night: Elsa had been making up for Janice’s absence. And then of course, it was – she glanced at the clock, rubbed her eyes, swore, and slapped her pillow against her face. Christmas morning. _Technically_. And she was still in bed. This was a new and not entirely enjoyable experience for her.

JinglejinglejinglejingleBONKthudjingle………..……jinglejinglejinglejingle.

Elsa groaned and rolled over, moaning “Noooooooooo” into her pillow when Anna staggered to her feet and let the energetic snowman, who had been running up and down the hallway, inside.

“Noooooooo” she moaned, when Anna grunted and lifted her up, muttering about “fat sisters” and “no more chocolates” and “need a nose-picker for this” before setting her down, wrapping her in blankets and dragging her out the door.

“Owowowowow” she said when Anna pulled her over the threshold and into the small study, where the little room was dominated by the monstrous tree that sprawled in the corner. It was mysteriously missing a good chunk off the top, which was good because it therefore fit perfectly. Olaf bounded up to it, his bells all jangling, and began cooing at the sight of such “pretty ornaments” and “pretty boxes” and “pretty long time I was waiting for you two”. Kristoff sat cross-legged on a pillow, decked out in the ugliest shirt Anna had ever seen, a grey and green monstrosity of thick yarn, holding a plate of cookies shaped like extremely obese reindeer, his head lolling dangerously. Sven was drooling on the carpet, tinsel draped lovingly over his antlers. Underneath the tree was a veritable mountain of presents, along with one slim box and another much thicker one, both from a certain absent someone.

Anna let go of her huge sack of blankets and collapsed on the floor with a grunt. “Presents are here.”

Elsa yawned and sat up. “So, Christmastime?” she asked.

“Wha-why you, you sneaky little-” Elsa kissed her nose, and Anna shut up. It was hard to be grumpy when she was beaming like that.

“Oh come on, I always used to be able to sleep in on Christmas.”

“Well, _I_ never did: I always got up at the crack of dawn and woke Mom and Dad up and then we’d spend the whole morning jus-” Anna stopped. She looked down at the ground, blinking rapidly. “…oh.”

A hand slid into her limp ones and gripped tightly. Elsa had thick bags under her eyes, her hair was a frizzy mess, and her lips were dry and cracked. She had never seen her so beautiful. “Hey, it’s okay. That’s years ago, remember? This is now. And it’s all that matters, right?”

Anna swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Right.”

“Right,” Kristoff repeated dumbly, and then dropped his head into the plate, sending fat reindeer everywhere. Olaf yelled and began scooping them up, muttering darkly about no one appreciating his cooking skills. Anna laughed and took one of the treats he offered her, carefully brushed off the carpet hairs, and took a tentative bite. “Hey, this isn’t bad! Actually kinda sweet, come to think of it. What’d you put in this?”

“Hemlock.”

Elsa immediately slammed her palm into the middle of Anna’s back, rocketing the cookie chunks out of her as Anna gargled on her own mouthful of spit and crumbs before hawking them up on the carpet.

Olaf tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Actually, wait, it was the other one.” He thought for a minute, then jumped in the air. “I remember: vanilla!”

“That’s…” Elsa said, and covered her face with her hand. “That’s great, Olaf. Thank you for the cookies.”

“Yeah,” Anna croaked, “thanks. We’re very thankful.”

“And that,” Olaf said proudly, “is what Christmas is all about.”

 

* * *

 

 

Elsa and Anna took one look at her and said “ _No_ ” in complete unison.

Janice sighed. Her hands were trembling slightly. “It’s not that bad; Elsa, I can help you-”

Elsa gripped her shoulders and shook her head firmly. “No, Janice, please-” She took her hands away when Janice winced, a silent apology in her eyes.

Anna was looking slowly between them, biting her lip, forehead wrinkled in worry. Normally the pair of them could pass for twins, albeit twins with very different personalities, but now Elsa looked…fuller. And not because she was fat, of course, but because Janice’s robes sat differently, and her elegant cheekbones were a little too well defined, the backs of her hands looking cracked and dry. Evidently her week-long absence had not done enough; if anything, she looked worse.

“But we’re here, and you know that you can’t let go when we’re down at the castle, and you haven’t been able to get away for two months now, because of Anna’s wedding, and I know you want it.”

“Janice, you’ve taught me to say yes to pleasure, and I appreciate that, I really do. But that goes two ways. You can also say no to pain. And I know that you’re not up for it, so please, just let us take care of you, okay?”

Janice glared crankily.

Anna pointed her finger at her. “Don’t you give her that look. You march right over to that bed and sit down and rest.” Startled, Janice turned to her, but while she was distracted Elsa looped an arm around her shoulders and began to lead her forward. Janice hissed between her teeth but gave in, coming over to the bed and then plopping down in a dejected fashion.

“God protect me from overbearing sisters.”

“I think you’d do better asking God to protect you from the flu.”

Janice chuckled, and Anna wrapped her arm around her waist and leaned against her side. “And yet here you’re both so insistent on cuddling with a sick woman.”

“Everyone knows that love dries a sniffling nose,” Anna informed her with an air of wisdom.

“Pity that’s not one of my symptoms. Maybe next time.”

“Oh! I almost forgot: give me one minute…” Elsa dug around in one of their bags and pulled out a small pocketwatch and chain. She glanced at the face and blanched. “Oh, no: quick! We’ve only got three minutes: Anna, what do you wish for?”

“…can I go second?”

“Fine; okay, Janice, what do you wish for?”

She was quiet for so long that Elsa almost repeated the question, certain that she hadn’t heard her, but something made her wait. Maybe it was Anna holding in her breath, only releasing vaporous exhales when she absolutely had to, her eyes bright as she watched the woman between them breathe in the quiet air. There was something moving across Janice’s face; a thought, or a shadow, or an emotion she had long been familiar with but was only just now realizing Janice was capable of feeling.

Janice shifted, as if her bones ached. “I’d like to see something.”

Elsa’s arm tightened around her shoulders, but this time Janice didn’t complain. “What would you like to see?”

“I want to see what color the ice here changes in sunlight.” Anna and Elsa exchanged a look. Anna ducked her head and looked at her knees.

“…that was mine, too,” she whispered. But she’d already seen…oh.

Elsa swallowed and turned her head towards the door. She made a gesture and a sharp gust of wind flung the doors open, revealing the brightly lit night landscape, her elegant staircase that gleamed in the starlight, the thick mountain snow that blanketed the peak beyond.

The pocketwatch tickled her palm. She’d run out of time.


End file.
